more morgan stories

I left Salome a voicemail.

“Joan the Morgan lady said we’d be riding with two other people. Stop making that face. Yes, I know that you are making a face. I know you hate people, but what if these are nice people? What if they are Johnny Depp and Vanessa Paradis?”

So as we were sitting in the Jetta parked by the logpile on Tennessee Valley Road, drinking hot tea and waiting for Joan to arrive, we looked for Johnny and Vanessa.

Salome: There’s Johnny’s truck now.

Rachel: No way. Johnny wouldn’t drive an SUV.

S: Unless it was biodiesel.

R: Every car Johnny touches turns to biodiesel.

S: Yeah, I heard that about Johnny.

Pause.

R: I heard that when Johnny Depp poops? It’s brioche.

Our fellow riders, Fred and Angelique, were indeed wonderful people, and shall be known henceforth as Johnny and Vanessa.

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